


the killing moon

by Anonymous



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Comfort, F/M, Gen, Inspired by Richard Siken, Introspection, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Star Gazing, however ya wanna read it baby, no beta we die like jackie welles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Their entire situation confused V.She asked Hellman why she could see him, received a scientific answer in response, but it didn’t explain why he could touch her.It didn’t explain the aura that hung around him that only Misty could explain.So, V stared and tried to figure him out.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Kudos: 16
Collections: Anonymous





	the killing moon

**Author's Note:**

> “He was pointing at the moon but I was looking at his hand. He was dead anyway, a ghost. I'm surprised I saw his hand at all.” - Richard Siken.

It’s rare to have nights like these. When there’s only one or two fixers calling her up for personal favors, or with jobs that require urgency and haste during the day. 

Where they get to _relax_.

They should enjoy it while V is alive and able. 

It’s also rare for the moon to be so… _bright._

V hasn’t seen it like this her entire life. 

Johnny notices the awe on her face, or maybe he’s just reading her thoughts.

“You’ve really never seen it this bright, V?” He asks her, shifting around on the hood of the Porsche. The metal creaks under his.. well, that’s the question she’s asking.

How is he able to manipulate the living world when he’s only a construct living in her mind?

She files that question away.

Instead, V works the zipper of the Samurai jacket she’s grown attached to up and down, “Nope.” She pops the p, “Scrapers filled Charter Hill to the brim with neon lights-“ 

Johnny scoffs, cuts the rest of her sentence off, “You’re joking.” He says. V shrugs, “Look through my memories if you don’t believe me.” She suggests, even when she knows he wouldn’t do such a thing.

They’ve come to a certain understanding about that aspect. She doesn’t go looking for more information on Alt, Rogue, or whatever, and he’ll do the same.

Best that way, probably. She’s got way too many problems and memories she wants to keep to herself. 

V shivers, brings the blanket on her lap up and wraps it around her shoulders, “Charter Hill was just so fucking bright,” She explains, tries not to look away from Johnny’s confused eyes, “There was always some light source, or ‘scraper, blocking the moonlight.” 

Johnny hums, “Right.” V can tell there’s something he’s not saying, something that’s got him tapping his metal fingers against the Porsche’s hood.

“What is it?”

He shakes his head, “Nah. It’s just-“ Johnny cuts himself off. His fingers stop tapping against the metal. 

V sighs, exasperated beyond all belief, “ _Johnny_. Just fucking say it.” She says. Her breath forms little clouds of steam when she talks. She wonders when the last time it snowed was. 

It hasn’t snowed for years in Night City. She’s thinking it’s not even possible.

“It is possible.” Johnny mutters. He taps his fingers again.

V raises her eyebrows at him, “Oh?” Johnny shrugs, brings up his ‘ganic hand to run it through his hair. 

“Saw a lot of snow. Used to run with the nomads.” 

And that piece of information single-handedly makes her grin.

She wonders, for just a second, why he told her now of all times, or at all.

It must have something to do with the fact that they’re currently parked by the Aldecaldo camp.

V’s been spending more and more time in the small, shitty tent Panam and Mitch set up for her than in the apartment she pays for in Little China. 

Something about this found family makes V want to spend her last days in the company of the nomads. At least then she would have someone to remember her. 

A gust of wind drags V away from her thoughts. She turns away from Johnny, puts her hands behind her head, “Really? When?” She asks, kicks her feet back and forth and hits the front a bit too hard.

Johnny seems to take the slight bumps to the front of his car personally. “Hey, watch it.” He sneers at V, gestures towards her feet, “Just because they’re not WMD’s doesn’t mean they can’t scratch up my baby.”

V rolls her eyes but humors him anyway, “Okay, okay. Now, spill, asshole.” She says, leans back and lays down on the windshield. The cold from the glass spreads to her body, makes her feel ten times colder than she already felt.

Johnny can probably feel it too, if the look he gives her is any sign. 

“Fine.” He says, leans back and takes his spot beside her.

“It was when I had just turned 16. I lived on the streets, made my way down the road. Then, this traveling nomad family took me in.”

V hums, “I see. You enjoy the time you spent with them?” She asks, tapping her nails against the metal hood. 

The sound echoes through the Badlands. It distracts her from the frigid air, the guitar she can hear distantly.

Johnny nods, “Yeah. They were alright.” He says. Sometimes, it seems like he forgets that he’s inside of her mind. Meaning, she knows his thoughts. His memories.

The memory of a man teaching a young teenager how to shoot a gun, both of them grinning from ear to ear, appears. The man is bent over, moving the gun up and whispering into the teenager’s ear. 

There’s no mistaking who the teenager is. A young Johnny Silverhand, fresh off the streets of Night City. 

He looks.. _relaxed_. 

V looks over at the present day Johnny. She finds the same expression on him. 

“You like it out here, don’t you?”

Johnny turns to face her, raises his eyebrows, “Peeking through my memories?” He shifts around, takes out a cigarette from his back pocket.

V shakes her head, “Just assuming. And that random memory that came to me doesn’t help either.” She retorts, brings out a cigarette of her own and lights up.

The warmth heats her hands, reminds her she’s real. 

She can’t say the same for the man sitting next to her. 

From the corner of her eye, she can see Johnny look up to the night sky. There are a million little stars clustered around the moon, gray clouds shroud some of them in a haze.

“You ever learned anything about the stars?”

Johnny’s voice cuts through the silence of the Badlands. 

It deletes their previous conversation. V doesn’t mind as much as she would’ve, had it been any other person. 

She sighs, “Nope. They’ve never been this present before. Not in my entire life.”

Johnny throws his cigarette down, smashes the imaginary flame with the heel of his boot.

He lifts his metal arm, points at the moon and all the neighboring stars. The metal reflects the moonlight. It’s nearly blinding.

“That’s supposed to be Venus. And that star over there is..”

Johnny rambles about the stars, the planets, all the constellations he learned while he was on the road.

She stares, wonders if he can feel her gaze or if he doesn’t even have to think about it to know that she hasn’t taken her eyes off him this entire time.

She stares, watches as his hand moves through the air as if it’s flesh and bone. 

How confusing. 

V finds that she doesn’t want to know the answer to all her questions. Not today. 

Today, she wants to stare at Johnny, and listen as he tells her all about the dark side of the moon

**Author's Note:**

> many thoughts. why did johnny’s arm reflect things like he was in realspace? is cdpr gonna give us a truly happy ending where we get to give johnny his body and we ride off into the sunset? who knows?


End file.
